


I Hate You

by Snortinglaughter



Series: Short Stories of the Kinky Sort [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M, Masturbation, POV First Person, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 16:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16099094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snortinglaughter/pseuds/Snortinglaughter
Summary: How dare you provoke this in me? How dare you creep in my thoughts and stir these emotions? But I need more... I want more.





	I Hate You

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 42: Voyeur.
> 
> Requested by: anonymous.

I hate you.

 

When I heard you had been named Prefect, I scoffed and rolled my eyes. _‘Why him? Out of all people?’_ I complained to my friends. Our attitude towards one another didn’t change in the slightest. You still crashed you shoulder against mine in the halls, and I still came up with nasty names for you and your friends. But then one night, you entered the Prefects bathroom, not noticing my presence in the shadows. An urge to throw you a Stinging hex took over me and I pointed my wand at you, but before I could whisper the spell, you took your shirt off.

 

Your skin, so strikingly different from mine… It was beautiful. I couldn't help but stare as you undressed, as you bent down to open a couple of water taps to fill the pool-like tub. I felt a blush creep up my neck at the sight of your bum, and a mad desire had me wishing you would turn around. I wanted to see all of you, your chest, your thighs, your cock. I nearly huffed, feeling ridiculous for this sudden need to know every bit of you. It was too late to walk out of the shadows and act nonchalantly, so I turned my back on you and stayed there, hiding, until you left.

 

I touched myself that night, with the best Repelling and Silencing charms I knew cast around my bed, the randiness of my teenage years too strong for me to resist. I thought of the lines of your back, of the curve above your arse, and I didn't last much. I spilled over my stomach, over my chest, and I felt inexplicably angry at you. How dare you provoke this in me? Merlin, I fucking _hate_ you.

 

But it happened again, and again. I wanked myself raw for nights in a row, the image of you always in the back of my lids, and I realized I wanted more… I _needed_ more. So I found myself waiting in the Prefects bathroom every night, a Disillusionment charm camouflaging me. You didn't show up the first two nights, but I didn't let that discourage me—I'm known for being stubborn.

 

And then you were there. You hadn’t even undressed yet and I was already hard. I realized it wasn't just seeing you naked what brought this thrill to my senses, this everlasting shiver on my spine. It was the excitement of remaining unseen, of watching you while you had no idea of my presence—such an oblivious git you are.

 

As I lazily stroked myself, I watched you sit on the edge of the tub and soak your feet and calves in the water, but I wanted to see more. I knew I had to be careful, so I slowly, silently walked forward until I was close enough. I could see your cock, and it was the most contradicting feeling. I felt jealous of its size, even in its soft state, but at the same time, I had to bit back a sigh as I imagined how it would feel to have _your_ cock in my hand instead of my own.

 

You took a soap bar that laid on top of your towel, and immersed it in the water before lathering your thighs. Ridiculous, really, because the suds from the taps were magical and cleaned one entirely once one entered the water. But I liked to imagine that you _knew_ I was watching, that you were making a show out of it because you _wanted_ me to watch you. Then you started lathering your balls and your cock, and I immediately imagined taking it in my mouth and feeling you growing hard as I sucked. _God,_ I wanted to taste you, you utter fucking tosser.

 

I kept watching you, hoping I was far enough that you didn’t hear how hard I was wanking. I could barely hold back a whimper when I came.

 

And I could have sworn I saw a smile growing on your lips.

 

 _Ugh,_ I fucking hate you.

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first time I wrote anything in first person POV. I hope it was intriguing for you. Feel free to comment your theories on who is the voyeur ;)


End file.
